Chained and Bound
by OnyxEagle01
Summary: The year is 1805, and slavery is legal in the United States. Nudge works on a plantation owned by Iggy's wealthy family, but when they fall in love things begin to spiral out of control. Rated T, but may be bumped up. Niggy. AU. No wings. Try it!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey everyone! This is my new story, _Chained and Bound_. Like the summary said, it takes place during the 1800s, and slavery was still legal in the United States. For the sake of the story, I bumped up Nudge and Iggy's ages [Nudge-17 Iggy-19]. Also, they're very OOC, but that is to be expected.**

**IMPORTANT: This story is about slavery. Of course, the theme itself is very mature and the practice is absolutely horrifying. I do not support slavery, or racial discrimination of any kind, but I'm trying to be as historically accurate as possible. Language will be the main thing, and I don't want to offend anyone, so here's your one and only head's up. Also, grammar and spelling may be off. I'm going to write in a way that is easy to read, rather than is accurate.**

**Disclaimer: Do I _look_ like James Patterson to you? Do I _sound_ like him? Nope. Didn't think so. So, obviously, the Maximum Ride characters do not belong to me. Don't sue. I'm broke.**

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Chained and Bound

- -Chapter One- -

+-Nudge-+

The breeze was wondrous on the back of my neck. The Alabama sun was unbearable, even in January. My hair was pulled up off my skin, though I was still frying. I glanced down at the bucket of water where my hands were buried; the water had warmed hours ago. I could only faintly recall the cool feel of it before the sun came up this morning. Soap bubbles floated lazily across the surface, colliding with each other, as well as the sides of the wooden bucket.

Sighing heavily, I once more dipped my rag into the lukewarm water, wringing it dry before setting to work on the hardwood floors. Missus Colburn is very particular of her floors. That's somethin I never really understood. They just floors, after all.

Havin already washed all the other rooms, all the windows and doors in the house were open. A faint breeze filtered in, stirring the heavy air within the house. 'Counting for all that bright sunshine outside, the house was rather dark and dim. I scrubbed furiously, thinkin' 'bout my family lots.

Just last week, my mama was sold off, my younger brother with her. Flora stayed here with me and my pa, not that that's much of a good think for us. Flora's a good bit older than me, prolly 'bout twenty. My mama was only sixteen when Flora was born-even younger than me myself. Flora just got married off near a month ago, to a good man by the name of Armistead. She and her man stay over at the Tucker plantation, prolly ten miles away from my place here.

That means its just me left here with pa. He meaner 'an a rattlesnake, and has a bite just as poisonous. My pa's got a thing for women, and it don't matter wether they be colored like us or white. I dunno how he hasn't gotten killed yet, foolin' with the pretty little white girls the way he does. I guess it's cause my pa's got a nice face on him, though his nose is a little broken from a fist fight when he and his brothers were chill'en.

Still, if Pa ain't doin a girl, he's hitting someone. He ain't never hit any white people before, specially not women. You'd be strung up on a tree fore you could blink, if you tried tha. So he hits me and my family instead. But it's jus' me now, and I've been staying away from Pa as much as I can. Cassandra's been taking good care of me though. She another one of the slave girls, and she's older than anyone I know.

Cass has been working for the Colburn's for a long time, well before I was even thought about. People says that she practically raised our Mister Colburn since he was just a wee baby, fresh outta his mama's belly. All the other girls like to tease her about her seeing Mister Colburn in his birthday suit, for he is a fine looking man. But Cass don't care about nothing, specially not something stupid like that.

I scrubbed away at the dirt and grime, and tried to ignore the tight, aching feeling in my chest. I missed my mama already. Family being sold is pretty common, but it ain't never happened to me before this. My mama's the only one that tried to keep Pa from hitting Flora, Dal, and I. She always got hurt cause of it, but now she's safe and so's her baby boy. Even Flora's alright.

I was surprised to find tears streaming down my face. They ran down the sides of my nose and dripped off my chin into the bucket of water. I sniffled once, twice, and then sucked in a huge breath. _Gotta stop, gotta stop now, Nudge. Can't cry._ Now, my real name ain't Nudge-it's Crystal Mae. But I can't remember a time I wasn't called Nudge.

_Ah, that's the last of it._ I rose up off my hands and knees, my knees raw and sore from the floor. My hands had long been numb from the water, chafed and peeling. I flexed my fingers quickly, working the joints, and then stooped once more. Grasping the heavy bucket in both hands, I walked awkwardly with it directly in front of me, in a sort of waddle. The barn wasn't too far off, and was my destination. The used water from cleaning was used to help keep the animals refreshed. They don't mind a bit of soap.

After dumping the bucket and returning it to its proper place, I poked my head out the door of the barn. The sun was beginning to sink; it couldn't be any earlier than five. All the men were making their way back from the cotton fields, and the road was packed full of them. I scanned for Pa, and found him quickly. He's easy to pick out of a crowd; huge in height and broad shouldered, he clears himself a path.

He was still a good ways back from the barn, so I made a quick dash toward the road, picking up the hem of my dress slightly. My clothes all used to belong to Flora, so they don't fit me very well. I'm about four inches taller than her, and just as skinny, but I've got more curves than she ever had. This straw colored dress was faded and threadbare, holes worn through the knees.

I slipped into the crowd, searching for a face I knew-preferably a friendly one. I've lived on the Colburn plantation all my life, and I know just about everyone there is to know. Still, there's a lot of them I'd prefer never to have met.

"Afternoon, Nudgey!" I glanced over at Willem, and shook my head at him. "'Noon, Willem." Willem's not much older than me, and I've known him for years. He can't seem to get it out of his head that messing with me is fun. But it's all good-natured, which is more than you can say for some.

We walked in companionable silence until we split, me going left to the women's section and he to the right. I stumbled through the small collection of huts until I came upon Cassandra's. Only five houses down from my current residence was my old home where I stayed with my mama, sister, and brother. Just seeing it set my heart spiralling downward again. The delightful smell coming from within Cass's house was almost enough to cheer me up, but not quite.

"Welcome home, little chick," Cass welcomed, gathering me to her and kissed the top of my head. There was a bath ready for me, seeing as it were the second Tuesday of the month. I slid out of my dress and sunk into the pleasantly cool water, being sure to leave my already damaged hands above the surface. Cass sat in a chair behind my and brushed my hair, humming quietly to herself.

I ate in a daze and fell into bed, just like every other night of my life.

So, what did you think? Please R&R!

-Sam


	2. Chapter Two

**AN: Hey guys! Thank you all sooooo much for your reviews, favorites, and alerts! I would love to hear from all of you, so please review!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Maximum Ride, that would mean I'd own Fang. If I owned Fang, I would be dead because of an overflow of happiness. Seeing as I'm not dead, I obviously do not own Maximum Ride. I do own my OCs!**

**Here's chapter two! Enjoy.**

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Chained and Bound

- -Chapter Two- -

+-Iggy-+

I bounced roughly, startlingly me from a fitful sleep. The curtains of the carriage where pulled shut, but light still filtered in at the corners, illuminating slim lines on the velvet cushions. My trip home would have been much quicker had I rode my horse, Forsythe. I must admit, this method of travel is much safer; I may be a good swordsman, but I alone am no match for a group of bandits.

So instead of a pleasant ride with nothing but my own mind, I am stuck inside this rattling carriage, the oafs my parents hired laughing raucously constantly, their voices piercing through a quiet I desperately wanted. Groaning softly, I pulled my hat down over my face and closed my eyes once more.

One of the advantages of the carriage was the slight respite from the blistering Southern sun. I'd always been pale, but my months spent away at college had leeched all the color from my skin. I had always loved my home in the South, but the never-changing weather grows tedious, especially after experiencing my first harsh New England winter. I saw snow for the first time, much to the amusement of my fellow students.

Now, the stuffy humid air was compacting my chest, and I longed for the crisp bite of frosty mornings. Mother and Father had insisted I return home, though, and I could not refuse them. It was late January, and my semester had just concluded. I had not returned home during the holiday season, much to my family's frustration. The requested-demanded-that I return to them at the end of my semester, and remain with them until classes resumed in March.

"Ey!" One of the drivers called out. "Mister Colburn, sir!"

Sighing heavily, feeling the carriage roll to a stop, I opened my door and clambered down the the ground. Breathing in deeply, I noticed distractedly that it _smelled_like home. The compacted dirt beneath my feet was dry and cracked and not a breeze filtered through the trees. "What is it?" My voice was heavy with annoyance, and I winced at the sound of it. I retrieved my hat from within the carriage and pulled it over my blonde hair, shielding my eyes from the bright sunshine.

"We're gonna stop here. The horses are getting worn out, and there's a stream over yonder." He gestured vaguely off to the left. I glanced at the horses, two big bay stallions. Their flanks were heaving, and I reached out to gently feel one of their sides; it was hot and sweaty.

I nodded my agreement. "Cool them down and make sure they get something to drink. A bit of food too, I suppose. We might as well eat now, seeing as we're stopped." I dug through my pack for a light meal while the drivers led the horses off the path. I slid down the side of the carriage and rested against it, hiding in the shade it created. The pack of crackers I'd retrieved sat in my lap, and I stretched my cramped legs out, crossing my booted feet at the ankle.

As I ate, I pondered my arrival home. I was hoping that maybe Mother and Father would be gone for the majority of the day, and I would have the large house to myself. You see, I'm a Colburn. My family has lived on our plantation for years, and have made more money off of it than I could fathom on a good day. One of the things about my home in the South is the slaves.

There is slavery in the North, too, but not the way it is down here. One of the slave boys who worked for my college-Princeton, in New Jersey-was actually really nice, and rather funny. He helped me carry a friend of mine up to the dorms after a party one time, and we didn't really become _friends_, but it was something close to that. Not that I would ever say a word about it to anyone. Not a soul.

One of the elderly slave women, Cassandra, practically raised me. As soon as I was old enough to understand, my parents began force feeding me tales about the type of person Cassandra is, and everyone like her. They told me to hate her, and all the other black "scum". But I could never hate Cass. The opposite, really. I loved-love-her. My heart tightened suddenly. Maybe she had died? Cass has seen a lot of years, and who knows how she has been treated while I was away. My mother doesn't know that I still talk to Cass sometimes, and so would never have mentioned her in one of her letters, despite the fact that Cass raised me.

I scowled at the mere notion, and then pushed the ugly thought from my mind, focusing instead on other things. I was studying to become a lawyer, though I doubted anything would ever come from it. I'm the only child of my parents, meaning that I will be responsible for overseeing the plantation, along with my wife. My wife-whom I will most likely hate. I'm sure Mother has been scrambling to find me a suitable spouse for the past few months, as I wasn't there to deter her.

I'm not exactly the romantic type, though I've courted many women in my nineteen years. I just haven't found what I'm looking for, and something tells me I never will. Mother's tastes in "appropriate" women are so wrong for me.

But what can I do about it? I'm Ignatius August Colburn, the only son and heir of the massive Colburn plantation.

_Boy, I just can't wait to get home._

So, what did you guys think? Please review! It makes me smile.

-Sam


	3. Chapter Three

**AN: Thanks for all the reviews guys, I really appreciate it! And all of you silent readers? I'd love to hear from you guys too.**

**Disclaimer: Do people actually read these things? In your review, say "muffin" at some point, if you actually took the time to read this pointless disclaimer. Why muffin? Because muffins are good, okay? Oh. Right. I don't own Maximum Ride or any characters within that world. I do own my OCs.**

Chained and Bound

- -Chapter Three- -

+-Nudge-+

The sun, which had just poked its fiery head above the horizon, turning the sky lovely shades of yellow and purple, slanted in through the window and fit my face, waking me from a sleep that was both deep and restless at the same time. My eyes popped open and then squeezed shut once more as the sun glinted in my pupils. I sat up quickly and looked around.

Cass was not in bed, but she never is. She gets up even earlier than I do; now that there are no children living in the Colburn plantation house, Cass isn't needed until later in the day. Still, she is so used to getting up early. Ever since I've moved in with her, Cass has made sure that there is a little something for me to eat after I get up. Some days I'm needed in the fields, and other days in the house. Both jobs require me to wake at the crack of dawn and be outside not much later.

I rolled out of bed and pulled on my new shoes, which had been handed out at the beginning of the month, along with our issue of a set of clothing given to us at the beginning of each year. The two linen shirts, a pair of trousers made of the same material, a second pair of trousers for winter months, a jacket, a single pair of stockings and one pair of shoes are meant to last us the entire year. To the women, they give a skirt in addition to the other clothing articles.

I've been fortunate; Cass, having worked inside the house for long, and being a personal favorite of Missus Colburn's, received a few old dresses a year when she still worked there everyday. She kept them all, and though they have gotten rather threadbare over the years, they are much more comfortable than the shapeless sacks given to us. She allows me to wear them occasionally, though only on the days I am working in the house.

Cass entered the house then, and glanced over at me. She smiled widely, moving toward me. I had stood and was stretching my stiff muscles when she reached up and grabbed my shoulder. She pushed down, and for being as small and frail as she is, there was a remarkable amount of force behind the gesture. I allowed myself to fall back onto the side of my bed. "Your hair is crazy, little one," Cass informed me, clucking her tongue. Her hand attempted to smooth down the tight, unruly curls.

Even sitting down as I was, Cass had to stretch a little to reach the top of my head. She has shrunk with age, and I am a very tall person to begin with. It is something I inherited from my father, unlike my sister who got my mother's petite frame. I'm very easy to spot, with my wildly curly hair and height; not good when you're trying to hide from someone.

"Mister Finnegan says you inside again today." Cass's beautiful accent flowed out, twangy and sweet on the morning air. I have no idea where she picked it up, and she ain't one to tell, so it's a big mystery to us all.

I nodded my understanding. "That'll have to do." Cass finally gave up on my untameable tresses, and instead held out a small package of crackers. "Take these with you for lunch today. Mister and Missus Colburn goin' be out all day, say they'll be back after dark." I nodded again, relieved that I would be able to focus solely on my work.

"Bye Cass." I waved back at her, without turning, as I walked out the door. The big plantation house wasn't too far of a walk from Cass's hut, and as I walked I watched the sunrise. The brilliant colors swirled brightly, though were fast fading back to blue. I pondered that for a minute; why do the colors of the sunrise disappear so quickly? Why can't they stay, and the sky be as beautiful all the time.

Mister Colburn was coming down the steps when I reached them, dressed in pure white. His skin seemed to glow, and the sun lit up pieces of gold in his nearly white blonde hair. His eyes-bright blue-darted to me, and our gazes met for a brief second before I lowered my head. "Morin' Mister Colburn." I didn't expect an answer, of course, and I couldn't go up the steps until he was out of the way. So I ended up standing just off the path, staring at my feet.

"Let's go, Jeffery!" That'd be Missus Colburn. She yells a lot, 'specially at her husband. I don't think they really like each other all that much, but they have to put up with each other anyways. Missus Colburn stomped down the steps, her dress also spotlessly white. She took her husband's arm and they tramped past me, before I could even open my mouth to greet her.

Shrugging slightly, I entered the cool building, making my way to the kitchen. Amabel was bustling around, and paused her work when she saw me standing in the doorway. "Good morning, Crystal Mae!" She beamed, humming a cheerful tune under her breath. Ama is the Colburn's cook, and she's most constantly in the house, making something up for them to eat. Seeing as they'd be gone all day, I guess that Ama won't have much to do.

"Mornin' Amabel. You got much to do today?" I scanned the kitchen, and saw the rag and bucket placed out for me again. I only had to clean to bottom floor yesterday, so I guess this means I gotta do the upstairs now.

Amabel shook her head. "Not today. Jus' got to finish up this cake for tomorrow and then I'll be done for the day." I half smiled at her, jealousy washing up within me. I felt guilty immediately; Ama works just as hard as the rest of us, and has to be up even earlier. Plus, she has to deal with Missus Colburn all day long, and for that I do not pity her.

"Good for you, Ama. 'Bout time you had a day to yourself." I took hold of the bucket and hauled it out behind the house, where I filled it to the point that I could barely carry it. When I came back inside, Amabel was peering at the cake, just as she had been when I first came in.

"'S almost finished now, Nudge. I'ma leave it out on the counter to cool until 'bout lunch time. Make sure nothing gets to it for me, won't you?" I nodded. "Course, Ama. I won't let nothing touch it." I slung the rag onto my shoulder and made my way to the stairs, being extra careful as I made my way up, the water sloshing around dangerously. I made it to the first landing and started my rounds, trying not to focus on all the other rooms ahead of me.

The walls needed washed too, but even I can't reach the very top. I worked methodically, and slowly the rest of the world began to slip away. I lost track of time altogether, and focused on nothing but my work for the day. I tried to keep my mind from drifting too far, because if it did I would break down and cry again. Instead of missing my mother, I focused on other, happier things. Not that there are many happy things in the life of a slave, but it could be a lot worse for me. At least I have Cass, and people like Amabel and Willem.

I had finished three of the rooms on the second floor, two smaller ones and then Mister and Missus Colburn's enormous bedroom when nature called. I left the bucket and rag sitting in the hallway and hurried down the steps and outside to do my business. On my way back through the kitchen I noticed a slip of paper I hadn't seen previously. It was roughly near where my bucket and rag had been, placed on the counter top.

I picked the slip up and stared at it, trying to make sense of the scribbles, but it was no use. I can't read. Can't write neither. _Stupid whites_, I thought, almost amused. I was sure that the list was for me, though of course there was no way for me to know what it said. Educating slaves is illegal, and even if a slave _could_ read, they kept the fact secret. Shaking my head slightly, I replaced the paper and resumed my cleaning duties.

I had once again slipped away from reality when a door slammed shut downstairs. I completely froze, my mind whirling. They weren't supposed to be home until after dark! I strained my ears, and could hear only a single pair of footsteps walking about on the lower level. I decided that they definately belonged to a man. Curiosity overtook my worry, but I was still completely silent as I crept out of the room, grabbing the fire poker from its resting place agaisnt the wall. Just to be safe.

I slid silently down the steps, skipping over the stair that squeaked when pressure was put on it. I cautsiously poked my head into the kitchen, but it was empty. Amabel's beautiful cake was missing a rather large slice-the cake I was supposed to be guarding! I continued my search, ending up in the parlor.

As I rounded the corner I saw legs, thrown across the arm of the settee. Legs that were most definately white. I set the poker down as lightly as I could; even if he was a murderer, having a weapon would only get me in more trouble.

_What now?_

...

**Soooo. Hope everyone liked it! Please review!**

**Sam**


	4. Chapter Four

**AN: Sorry for the delay, I'm trying to finish up my summer work for school, and volleyball tryouts are this week. Plus, family is in town. Crazy week for me! Oh, I keep forgetting to mention this: Iggy ISN'T blind. Right. I was thinking about possibly adding the rest of the Flock, but that won't be for a while if I decide to do that.**

**Disclaimer: I'm too tired to think up something clever for this, so I don't own Maximum Ride. I do own my OCs, so no stealing please.**

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Chained and Bound

- -Chapter Four- -

+-Iggy-+

"We'll be arriving at your parents' home in about twenty minutes, Mister Colburn." One of the drivers informed me shortly after breaking our fast. I grimaced at the ground, not liking the sound of the title. 'Mister Colburn' made me feel like my father.

I resented climbing back into the carriage, but sighed and accepted that I didn't have much of a choice otherwise. I had been sleeping fitfully for the past week or so, and have as of yet to catch up on my rest. I hadn't seen myself in a mirror since our journey began, but I could picture the dark, bruise-like bags beneath my eyes. I was looking forward to being home, and the prospect of my bed waiting there for me.

The sun had rose above the horizon a few hours ago, and I had made sure to watch as it did so. Ever since I was a small child, I've loved sunrises and sunsets, the colors streaking the sky and changing the view of the land. Moments like that put me at ease, and I feel as if the rest of the day won't affect me, no matter how bad the circumstances are. This morning's sunrise was particularly spectacular, and a good feeling about the day rose up in my stomach.

So I settled into the seat and rested my head, day-dreaming about nothing in particular. I fell into a somewhat trance-like state, and was startled out of it when the carriage jolted to a sudden stop. My entire body pitched forward, and I flung a arm out in an attempt to catch myself, but ended up sprawled out on the floor, my long legs sticking into the air, one arm trapped beneath me.

Cursing violently, I wiggled around to straighten out, hoping to achieve some appearance of normalcy by the time the drivers opened the door for me. It was then that I realized I was pressed tightly against the right-side door, and was completely stuck in that position. If the door opened, I would surely end up sprawled on the ground.

The sound of boots hitting the ground alerted me that the drivers had left their perch on top of the carriage, and would soon be opening the door. Accepting my fate, I sighed quietly and braced myself. One moment I was looking at the underside of the seat, and the next I was staring up at the painfully bright sky, all the air rushing out of me as I landed heavily on the ground. My knee cracked against something hard as I fell out, and stung sharply.

I groaned and cursed some more before willing myself to my feet, trying to ignore the barely concealed laughter of the drivers, neither of whom attempted to help me up. I brushed myself off, and ignored them both completely, turning on my heel and stalking up the steps to my house.

It was dark and cool within the confines of the wall, and a heavy sigh of relief escaped my lips. All was silent, and I assumed that my parents had forgotten that I was arriving home today, and had gone out. I performed a quick scan of the bottom floor, and found nothing of notice except a gorgeous cake sitting in the kitchen. I licked my lips, looking around furtively. I'm sure that Amabel is still the cook-Mother adores her. Ama's cakes are to die for; I simply could not resist taking a slice, even though I would surely be punished for it later.

I cut myself a small slice and shoveled it down my throat quickly, wandering through the house once more. I was far too exhausted to even walk upstairs, and so simply poked my head out the front door to assure myself Mother and Father weren't on their way home-I highly doubted it-and then collapsed on the settee in the parlor. I winced as the door slammed loudly, but thought no more of it, forcing my weary body to relax.

I was about a second from sleep, when the tiniest noise startled me awake. Someone had set something-it sounded heavy-against the wall just outside the parlor. I held my breath, listening closely, and was able to pick out another set of breathing. I stayed completely still, waiting for the person in the doorway to make a move. When they didn't, my curiosity got the better of me, and I sat up quickly.

I bit back my amusement when the figure jumped back, frightened. I performed a quick double take, surprised. It was a girl, not much younger than me, if I had to guess. A slave girl. She was staring at me with big brown eyes, but when our gazes met she lowered her head quickly, staring at her feet. Her height was unusual, especially for a girl, although I still stood well above her thin frame. Her dark skin was a pretty color, though I couldn't think of a word to describe it, and her black hair curled tightly around her heart shaped face in a rather wild way. The next thought that filtered through my head made me jump: _She's beautiful_.

Pushing that thought away, I said, "Hello." She seemed startled that I had spoken at all, slowly backing out of the room before my voice made her freeze. I didn't want her to leave yet. "My name is Igg-Ignatius. My parents live here."

She glanced up briefly, nodding. "I know. Hello, Sir." Except she talks differently than I do, and her words sounded more like: "Ah no. 'Lo, Suh."

I almost smiled at the sound of her voice. "Hello," I said again, stupidly. "I didn't realize anyone was here, I didn't mean to disturb your work." She looked down at her toes again, but I could see the corners of her mouth lift up in a tiny, private smile. _Of course,_ I thought suddenly, _she doesn't get treated like this ever._ It's the South.

"I better get back to work," she said, somewhat shyly. She turned to leave the room, but then paused, turning back to me. "You can read, right Sir?" There was something remarkably familiar about this slave girl, but I couldn't place it. I nodded at her question. "You mother left a note for me, but 'course I don' know what it says."

"I can help with that," I offered cheerily, following her out into the hallway. Propped up against the wall was a large iron fire poker. I stopped, looking down at it in slight amusement. Realizing that I was no longer following, the slave girl stopped and turned to me. A blush flamed her dark cheeks when she saw me looking at the fire poker.

"I thought you mighta been my Pap." She whispered, so quietly that I could barely distinguish the words. Without saying anything, I lifted the poker easily, and followed her into the kitchen, where the evidence of my theft sat obviously on the counter.

"Did you take Ama's cake?" She asked, not exactly accusing, but something close to it. I nodded sheepishly, and opened my mouth to say something, but was cut off by her shoving a slip of paper at me.

I took it, our fingers brushing slightly during the exchange. Her hand jumped back as if I'd burned her. "It says, 'wash second floor rooms and windows, dust first floor, and clean dining room chandelier." It seemed like a lot of work for just one day, and apparently the slave girl thought so too, a dismayed expression on her face. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed heavily, taking the slip of paper back.

I would have to remind Mother that her slaves couldn't read, and that it does no good to leave them written instructions. I felt a pang of pity for this slave girl, although I know I shouldn't. I knew that she needed to get back to cleaning, but worry flooded my chest again, and the words burst out of my mouth without thinking. "Do you know if a slave by the name of Cassandra is still working here?"

The girl started, but then looked at me with a small smile on her face. "Yes, Sir. She still here. She very good to me. Healthy too," she added after a short pause, sensing my desire to know about Cass's state. I wondered briefly what the girl meant by Cass being good to her, but didn't get a chance to ask, because the girl had slipped out of the kitchen, hurrying up the steps.

I waited for the stair to creak loudly, but watched in amazement as the girl hopped over that step. "Wait!" I called, hurrying to the foot of the staircase. She froze, turning to look at me over her shoulder. "What's your name?" I breathed, knowing that I shouldn't care. But I did.

She hesitated. "Crystal Mae." Then she disappeared up the rest of the steps, out of my . I sighed heavily, and made my way back to the parlor, collapsing onto the settee once more.

...

**Please review!**


	5. Chapter Five

**AN: Sorry for the delay! Hope you enjoy, and I'm going to get right to the chapter now because I'm not in the mood to be witty.**

**Disclaimer: Plot=Mine. OCs=Mine. Nudge and Iggy (and possibly Flock in the future)=not mine.**

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Chained and Bound

- -Chapter Five- -

+-Nudge-+

My knees shook as I walked up the stairs. My heart stopped when his voice tickled my ears once more. "What's your name?" I could barely hear him, but it was clear enough. I froze and looked at him over my shoulder. "Crystal Mae."

I had desperately wanted to say Nudge, but stopped myself at the last second, running up the rest of the stairs as soon as the words escaped my mouth. Despite all the work Missus Colburn assigned me today, and that I would prolly have to skip lunch to complete it all, I weren't too concerned.

All the while I was scrubbing the floor my head played the same pictures ova and ova. I had gone stock-still when I realized the "intruder" was white. When his head popped up all of a sudden like that, I jumped back, 'fraid for myself.

I looked him over quickly, and he seemed right familiar. I didn' know where from though. I decided it would be best to get outta there fast, an' slowly back out of the room. Then he spoke, and I nearly jump'd outta my skin again. "Hello." I didn' say a word, and he stumbled, _introducing_ himself, like I was some kind of lady.

Ignatius. The name jolted something in my head, and then it made sense. He was the Colburn's son. Gone away up North for some formal schooling of some kind. I stumbled over saying hello, and tried not to let my surprise to show through when he apologized for 'disturbing me'. Never before had any white ever treat me like that, 'specially not Mister Colburn or his family.

Each passing second made me more and more uncomfor'ble, and I quickly turned and left the room, when I remembered the note that Missus Colburn 'ad left for me. "You can read, right Sir?" I already knew that he could; he was the son of a wealthy white man. When he nodded, I 'splained about the note, and he said he could help. So I turned and headed down the hallway to the kitchen.

When I realized young Mister Colburn warn't following me, I stopped. Heat flamed up my cheeks when I saw him staring down at the fire poker, some slight amusement on his face. I don' know what came over me then, for I said "I thought you mighta been my Pap." I squeezed my lips together then, eyes widening in surprise. _Why, oh why did I just say that!_ I though angrily to myself, no longer worried whether Mister Colburn followed me.

But he did, fire poker resting easily in one hand. A very sudden, realistic vision flashed before my eyes; the poker swinging up and then coming down hard, connecting with my skin. But the hand holding it, in my head, wasn't the pale white of young Mister Colburn's. It was my Pap's.

I shoved the image aside violently, focusing completely on the first thing my eyes landed on. Ama's cake still sat on the countertop, the large slice that was missing suddenly making sense. "Did you take Ama's cake?" I asked, wincing at my tone. As if I were his equal. He nodded, a strand of his pale reddish hair falling into his eyes. The same cold, blue eyes of his father. Before he could say anything else, I held the paper out to him.

His hand brushed against mine as he took the slip from me, and I pulled back roughly. My skin tingled and I couldn't help looking up into the young man's face to see if he reacted at all. Not a thing outta place, though, and I didn't fully understand the disappointment running through me. "It says, 'wash second floor rooms and windows, dust first floor, and clean dining room chandelier." In my head, I groaned and complained about all the work, but tried not to let it show on the outside. Still, I felt my shoulders sagging, and my lips pull down in a small frown.

I just wanted to be out of his prescence, back in the quiet safety of the upper rooms. But he spoke again, startling me by asking about Cass. My mind whirled for a long moment, until I realized that Cass had still been working in the house when young Mister Colburn was a baby. She raised him. ""Yes, Sir. She still here. She very good to me," I replied, thinking again of how she let me live in her house. Seeing the look on Mister Colburn's face, I added, "Healthy too."

A tiny sigh of relief slipped out of his lips, and then I was gone, before I got trapped in that kitchen all day. I needed to start working right away, if I wanted ta finish 'fore Mister and Missus Colburn got home.

I finished up another of the rooms, and slid out into the hallway. I paused at the top of the stairway and held my breath, listening. I didn't hear anything, and didn't want to wake the young man if he was resting. Once more, I lulled into the motions of working, and completed the second floor of the house just around noon. When I stood, my bucket full of dirty water, my back stiffened and I could barely straighten.

Hobbling down the stairs, weighted down from the extensive work and heavy bucket, I tried to skip the broken stair, but felt too unstable to hop over it properly. Wincing as I stepped down, the stair creaked loudly, echoing throughout the nearly empty house. I hurried down the rest of the staircase, the muscles in my back relaxing slightly, and then dumped the dirty water out once more.

Upon entering the house again, I nearly jumped outta my skin at the sight of young Mister Colburn standing in the doorway opposite me. He looked as if he had just been woken from a deep sleep, and blinked blearily in my direction. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to wake ya."

He shook his head and gestured vaguely with his hand. "'S kay." His deep voice groggy and thick with sleep. My heart pounded in my ears. _Why is this happening_? I wondered, tensing up again.

I skirted past him quickly, taking the duster from its spot in the closet. I had never liked the thing: big white and fluffy. It brushed against my arm as I walked slightly to fast to the front of the house, and I jumped 'bout a foot. Laughing softly at myself, and shaking my head to clear it, I got to work.

Steadfastly avoiding the parlor where I assumed Mister Colburn was still residing for the moment, I worked quickly, and not as thoroughly as I normally would be sure to. I stood in the hall outside the parlor for a long time, before taking a deep breath and entering, glancing around carefully.

Sure enough, Mister Colburn was inside, lounging rather elegantly on the settee, his booted feet propped on Missus Colburn's favorite table. When he sensed my presence, the feet came down immediately and he glanced up at me, startled. He sighed heavily. "I thought you were my mother." He breathed in relief. "She would have killed me," he gestured to his feet, which had once again perched on the table.

I nodded wordlessly, and started as far away from him as I could. More than once, I heard him take in a breath, as if he were about to say something, but neither of us made a sound. But the strange part is, I really wanted him to.

...

**So, I was kind of disappointed by the number of reviews I got for the last chapter. I know you guys are there! Reviews make me sooo happy. R&R?**

**-Sam**


	6. Chapter Six

**AN: Sorry for the delay! Here's some important info:**

**1. This is a Project PULL chapter. If you don't know what this means, check out Bookaholic711's profile for the deets! It's really cool!**

**2. I'm currently obsessed with a humble story by the name of "Incredibly Indescribable" by a wonderful author and friend, Lacking Stealth. You guys should definitely sheck it out, because it's a great read! If you review (which I highly encourage you to do) please mention that you were sent there at my suggestion. This will give me points for her on-going contest, which I desperately want to win!**

**Disclaimer: Do not own!**

* * *

Chained and Bound

- -Chapter Six- -

+-Iggy-+

The day slowed considerably after the slave girl-Crystal Mae, I continued to remind myself-left. The entire time she was in the room, I had to fight an overwhelming urge to say or do something stupid. After she left for the day, having completed Mother's enormous list of demands, a strange sense of relief washed over me, followed swiftly by guilt, simply for thinking of being relieved.

To help clear my cluttered, confused mind, I tried to focus on Mother and Father. Clearly, they had entirely forgotten that I was returning today; it was nearly dusk and they had yet to return from their day-long plans. I was expecting them at any minute, and nearly jumped out of my skin when a loud knock echoed through the too-empty house. As I meandered my way down the hallway, I wondered why Mother and Father would bother knocking.

If I had been thinking properly, I would have realized that Mother and Father wouldn't knock. But, I was entirely surprised when I pulled open the door and found a tall, slim frame draped in a blue dress silhouetted by the sinking sunlight. Long hair hung in her face and over her shoulders. "Iggy!"

The force of her jumping on me pushed me back two steps, my supply of air being cut off by her thin but strong arms wrapped tightly around me in a remarkably violent hug. She released me quickly, and then shoved both hands into my chest, hard. I scowled at her.

"Hi Max." Maxine Elisabeth Ride-better known simply as 'Max', much to her parents' dismay-is the girl I'm supposed to marry. Our mothers were close growing up, and the Rides are a family nearly as wealthy as my own. It would be an appropriate match for the both of us. But Max never does what she's told.

Not that I mind. Actually, I would hate being married to Max. We have known each other since we were just small children, and developed a rather amusing love-hate friendship, which we have finally grown out of.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?" She demanded harshly, grabbing my arm and pulling me out onto the porch. "I have nearly gone insane with no one to talk to!" The unspoken words, 'except Angel and Gazzy', made the pang of loneliness I had felt shortly after leaving for college burn fresh again. Max had always been one of my only friends. She was essentially in charge of her two younger siblings, seeing as her parents are never around.

I sat down on the front steps, shading my eyes with my arm. Max gathered her dress around her knees and landed heavily next to me, ducking her face toward the ground, creating a shield of blonde hair. "I'm sorry," I said truthfully. "I missed you."

Max glanced up briefly, the final rays of sunshine catching the tiny flecks of lighter brown in her dark irises. She smiled slightly. "Thanks, Ig. I missed you too. You have to tell me everything that happened up North. What's it like there?"

I was struck once more by how really beautiful Max is. She's practically my sister, and I don't have any romantic intrest in her whatsoever, but a man can still appreciate beauty when it is placed in front of him. I grinned at her. "It's so cold, Max! You'd never believe how cold it gets. And it snows! It's just the most wonderful, fluffy white stuff. It makes everything sparkle and it's so cold."

Max giggled. "You sound like Gazzy," she managed to squeeze out between laughs. "Tell me everything!" I obliged, allowing that she did the same for me. Night fell swiftly as we sat on the steps, Max listening to my tales completely enraptured. We were both so deeply buried in our thoughts that we didn't notice the arrival of my parents until they were already upon us.

"Ignatius!" My mother sounded surprised. _She really did forget about me,_ a small voice in the back of my mind mumbled sadly. Outwardly though, I appeared unfazed.

"Evening, Mother. I assume you received my letter?" I already knew that she had; it had been sitting opened in the parlor. _They didn't forget,_ that tiny voice whispered once more, _they just didn't care._ Max glanced over at me, concerned writ all over her face; she could sense the tension in my voice.

Mother looked flustered for a long moment, her hand going up to smooth her light auburn hair, which was curled in small fly-aways all around her head. "Yes, I did. I must have misplaced it, and forgotten the date." Internally, I replied to the vicious lie, but simply nodded.

At that moment, Father appeared behind Mother, towering above her, as imposing a figure as always. Father has always been the constant in my life, apart from Max; his size, his chill, his obvious disdain for me. Tall and pale, with a face as sharp as the bite of his blue eyes, Father isn't the type of person you would disagree with. I rose to shake his hand, Max having hastily scrambled to her feet a moment before.

I was surprised when we stood at eye level, and I could see that he was too. "Looks like the North did you some good then," he said gruffly, placing an awkward hand on my shoulder in a failed effort to look happy to see me. I nodded. "Seems so."

He then directed his attention to Max, who was standing by silently, keeping her eyes trained on the ground, though I could read the defiant set of her shoulders. She had never liked my father, though he had high thoughts of her. "Maxine, dear!" Genuine happiness in his voice as he turned his back to me. I scowled at the wide expance before me, taking half a step to the side to see Max's face as he gently kissed her hand, bowing slightly.

"It's so nice to see you again, how has you're Father been?" I exchanged a quick glance with Max. She had interrupted me halfway through a sentence to inform me that her Father had died of consumption*, which had plagued him for months.

Max deadpanned, "He's dead." Mother winced, stepping forward to wrap her thin arms around Max's waist, pulling her tightly, gently stroking her hair. Father looked stricken, and hastily began to apologize. "It's alright," Max assured them both, carefully removing herself from my mother's embrace. "I really should be getting home." Father insisted that she take our carriage, and called the driver with explicit instructions that Max-or Miss Ride, as he called her-arrive home with not one scratch or bump.

Mother ushered me inside, after I said my hasty, not-quite-private goodbye to Max, leaving multitudes unsaid between us. I really needed to catch up on all the going-ons around town, and neither Mother nor Father will be a reliable source of information.

I was not looking forward to the long evening ahead of me, most likely to be filled with long questionings about college, and about when Max and I are to marry. They simply can't get the thought of us together out of their heads.

I will certainly hate disappointing them.

...

(3rd Person POV)

Maxine Ride-though anyone who really knew her called her Max-bumped along in the carriage that belonged to the family of her best friend. Her thoughts swirled around Iggy Colburn's sudden, unannounced (to her) return. They had exchanged the occasional letter during the time he was gone, but nothing significant was ever said. Still, the happiness that flooded through her upon hearing about his return overrode any doubts she had about them growing apart.

A rather violent jerk sent Max's head crashing against the side of the carriage. She cursed rather colorfully, causing the driver to turn and stare at her with wide eyes. She was tempted to snap at him, but she managed to keep her mouth shut this time. "Sorry 'bout that, ma'am." He braved, earning a small smile.

Max hadn't gotten a chance to hear much of Iggy's college escapades, but enough to know that he had made friends quickly, especially with a boy by the strange name of Fang. Max grinned, wondering how he had earned himself a name like that. She wondered what his actual name was, and contented herself with guessing until she and Iggy truly had a chance to talk again.

It wasn't much, but her life was beginning to look up again.

... ... ... ... ... ...

*now better known as tuberculosis.

**Please reviw, guys! Hope you liked it. =D**

**-Sam**


	7. Chapter Seven

**SORRY EVERYONE! I ACCIDENTILY UPLOADED THE NOT FINISHED-VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER. DARN! NOTHING CHANGED EXCEPT THE VERY END OF NUDGE'S POV. SOOOOOOO SORRY!**

Chained and Bound

- -Chapter Seven- -

+-3rd Person-+

Crouching down low to the ground, the bushes easily concealing him from view, the young man allowed the tears burning in his eyes to spill out. His legs quit supporting him, and his backside landed heavily on the ground.

Swimming in his mind's eyes, the charred shell of his childhood home was burning once more. His hands sung, his useless attempt to rescue his family inside leaving them burned and blackened. Those damaged hands clenched into fists, and the young man jumped swiftly to his feet. A loud roar erupted from his throat, and fist connected with tree trunk. The barely-healed wounds split open, fresh blood trickling down his arm.

Growling and cursing himself, the young man slipped the shirt off his head, dark hair flopping into his face, and wrapped it tightly around his injured hand. The leather cord around his neck felt too heavy, too tight. It's gleaming white pendant shone too bright in the moonlight. His fingers itched to tear it off, but he simply couldn't.

It was all he had left of himself now.

... ... ... ... ... ...

(NUDGE)

Cass knew somethin' was on my mind soon as I walked in the door. Her eyes followed me as I cleaned my corner of her small home. "Wha's the matter wit you then?" She demanded, turning me around, hand tight on my shoulder.

I could feel my eyes widening, and I shook my head jerkily. A corkscrew curl had escaped its tight binding and stuck to the slightly damp skin on my forehead. "Nothin's wrong, Cass. Why?"

Her dark eyes stared at me and I could feel my will shaking, wanting to confess everything. But I bit my tongue. "Dinner's ready." I whispered, sliding past her slight frame and quickly taking the pot in my hands, ladling some of the thin soup into both of our bowls. My mind scowled at the fare, but I kept my face expressionless.

Cass and I didn't say a word to each other for the rest of the night. I climbed into my tiny bed, muscles tight and tense. I wiggled my toes and stretched my legs out to their full length, trying to relax. Despite the unbearable heat of the day, the night was chilled, and a thin blanket covered the middle of my body. Cass had cut the blanket in two when I arrived, allowing us each to always have a piece-a small piece, but better than nothing at all.

My feet hung off the end of the too-small bed, and my arm hit the floor when it dangled from the side. But I know better than to complain; I have it better than most of my fellow slaves. In the dark, listening to Cass's heavy, steady, breathing, my mind wandered to a certain pale boy whom I felt a strange connection to. The only problem was how much I wished I didn't.

Mister and Missus Colburn had given us the day off-everyone; even the field laborers-in honor of their son's homecoming. Missus Colburn did specifically ask for Cass, though, 'cause she wanted her to see young Mister Colburn again. I didn't mention his return to Cass, but of course she knew. Because of the Missus' summon, Cass left the house early, leaving me responsible for myself.

I was pleased to be left alone for a short time. If I miss the sunrise, mornings are bad for me. Sunrises are the only way to cheer and rouse me from my slumber, though still not very effectively. This morning, I awoke late, my arms and shoulders stiff and sore, the sky already blue, only the faintest remnants of sunny color still remaining. I pulled myself from bed and ate the small portion of bread Cass had left behind for me.

She had also placed one of her dresses on her bed for me to wear. Despite being nearly five inches taller than her, Cass's dresses fit me surprisingly well. This one is the same color as the sky during the end of summer, right before the sunset. I slid into the soft fabric and began to comb my crazy hair, pulling it back into a tight braid before leaving the house.

The day was surprisingly cool, the sun having not been up for long enough to heat the hard packed ground and glare down at us. I didn't know exactly where I was going; but when Willem appeared far down the path I waved. He picked up his speed to reach me.

"Mornin' Nudgie." He reached around behind me to grasp my braid, pulling it roughly. I jerked backwards as the force pulled me down, and glared angrily at Willem. He had released me the second I jerked back, his face rearranging into an apologetic expression. "Sorry," Willem said quickly. "I'm a lot stronger than I used to be." His voice trailed off, somewhat pathetically.

My eyes travelled along the expanse of his body, not as stealthily as I would have liked to appear. He was telling the truth; Willem has been working in the fields every day for the past month, and the effects of the back-breaking labor are evident. His shoulders, always too wide for the rest of his thin frame, no longer seemed quite so . His chest had filled out, and even beneath the material of his shirt I could see the strength of his arms.

Willem gazed steadily at me, trying to read my thoughts. I glanced back up at him, a few inches taller than myself, and offered a small smile. "I see that." Willem was frowning rather violently and I felt my eyebrows draw downward in confusion. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged those strong shoulders of his and mumbled something. I shot him a look, and eventually he repeated himself: "I hate it." I could hear everything else, hidden beneath those three words. Willem's voice quivered, and I grasped his arm and led him a short distance off the trail.

I knew exactly what was going through Willem's mind at that moment; we all have the same thoughts, buried deep within our brains. "I hate all of this!" Willem was struggling to keep his voice level and quiet enough so that none passing could hear him. All the tension and anger within him was causing Willem to leterally shake, his body vibrating. I didn't hesitate to reach out and tightly squeeze his forearms, whispering nonsensical words meant to soothe.

"I can't take this, Nudge. I can't stand being here much longer!" He wrenched his arms from my grasp and spun away from me. His fist shot outwards, connecting with the trunk of a nearby tree. A loud crack made me shutter, and Willem's voice rose to a shout as he cursed himself.

"Willem!" I jumped forward, despite the serious threat of another flying fist, and managed to get my arms around his torso. "Shh," I cooed, holding him tightly. "Just calm down, Will." He drew in a huge breath, and exhaled shakily. I breathed in with him the next time, feeling him begin to relax. One of his arms came around my shoulders, preventing me from pulling away from him.

My body was screaming to move away, to get some space, but I couldn't. As if from a distance, I heard footsteps approaching the spot, but my mind didn't make the connection. When everything clicked together, I froze, and tried to pull away from Willem. What if someone had heard what he had been saying? What if it were Overseer McCutchen, our cruel instructor? But when the figure stepped out of the shadows, I realized it was much, much worse.

"Crystal-Mae, dear."

"Father."

* * *

_Dear Iggy,_

_I do not know what to think, nor where to go. Know that I would not bother you with such a request, if I had any other options. I returned home from our first semester of college together most likely much later than you yourself arrived, for I traveled only at night, a lone horseman, into the wilds of this great country. Now I have no feeling except regret, for not having made my way more swiftly._

_Upon finally reaching the place of my birth, my only home for most of my life, I found it alive with flames. I could hear screams from within, and immediately tried to make it inside. To save my family. But I was not quick enough, not strong enough, for the roof collapsed and the fire ate away at everything inside. By the time neighbors arrived to help quench the inferno, it was already far too late._

_I fled the scene immediately, not able to bear looking at it any longer. I can't think about anything right now. I'm sorry. I'll be seeing you soon._

_Your most humble servant,_

_Nicholas Adrian Hawthorne_

_... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..._

_**ONCE AGAIN, SORRY FOR THE MIXUP!**_

_**So guys, I've had someone mention the inconsistency of Nudge's narrative and her spoken word, and I completely agree, But my writing style is very descriptive, and a bit too sophisticated for her situation. So here's the deal: Do you want me to write in a more realistic way, or the way I normally do and allow your imaginations handle the accents?**_

_**Please, please, review, if only to answer my question! Thanks so much, everyone.**_

_**-Sam**_

_**Oh yeah, don't forget to check out "Incredibly Indescribable"!**_


	8. Chapter Eight

**Hey guys! If you haven't already, I want to draw your attention to the mistake at the end of the last chapter! Please go back and reread the end of Nudge's POV, because I screwed up royally. But everything's fixed now.**

**Disclaimer.**

Chained and Bound

Chapter Eight

Iggy POV

Mother has big plans for today; the day after my temporary return from college. She has even given the field slaves the day off, in preparation for the "big event". According to Jeremiah, our family's carriage driver, she also hand-picked a few women to cook dinner and clean the house.

I was woken from a deep sleep far earlier than I wished to be disturbed. I didn't recognize the girl who had hesitantly shaken me from sleep, her eyes wary as she backed away from me quickly. "Missus Colburn wants yew out ta bed, suh!"

As much as I desired to, I did not gripe or complain, and simply hauled myself from the greatly-missed comfort of my own bed. The sounds of shuffling feet and busy hands filtered up to my room, and my mind began to spin in an attempt to find the cause of all the commotion.

Mother appeared at that exact moment, my shirt halfway peeled off my torso. Hastily, I pulled the hem back down over my hips. "Good to see you awake, Ignatius."

I was grateful that my back was to her then, for my face pulled down in a scowl. My name is one of the many things that remind me of home, which despite its familiarity, is mostly overwhelming and oppressive.

The South is so much different from the North; not just the landscape and weather patterns either. The South is much more structured: families have been here since the founding of these towns, and money flows like the water of the great Mississippi.

Society expects everyone to act the proper way, to treat their slaves as worse than dirt, and to marry a pretty, rich girl. Attend Church every Sunday and get yourself a good education. One tiny misjudgment and the entirety of the community will turn on you and yours.

Family in the North is very undisciplined and much less confining. If one member of a family, in the South, commits a crime of some sort, the entire family is spurned. A family is one, indivisible unit. None of us are individual. Everything leads back to who your father is.

I composed my features and turned back to my mother. "It is very early, Mother. What is the meaning of all this activity?"

Her pale, reddish hair was going white at the temples. I had not noticed this the previous night, and was suddenly struck by how old my mother looked; her hands were thin, the veins standing out starkly against the tightness of her skin. The lines at the corners of her eyes and along her mouth were more apparent than I remembered.

A pang went through my heart. Mother had always tried her best for me, but she'd never wanted any of this. As difficult as it is to see it now, I imagine she was a lot like Max as a girl, with the stubbornness of an unbroken colt. Mother had been married off young—only seventeen—because her parents had lost a large sum of money on her father's alcohol addiction.

Now, Mother was surely one of the finest girls in all of Wilkes County. No can ever deny that; she was just too young to be married off to someone as influential as my father, who was twenty-nine at the time, his first wife having died in childbirth along with their daughter three years before.

Mother's no older than forty, but she's had a rough time of life. She lost three babies before I survived, and the story around town is that Father wasn't too pleased by the lack of children.

As if she could read exactly what I was thinking, Mother's intense gaze softened, and she smiled at my slightly. "I'm having a welcome home dinner for you tonight, Ignatius. We're inviting all your friends."

By my friends, she means the people she thinks I should devote time to. Max is really the only friend I have here; neither of us were very good at getting along with the other children.

This topic got my thinking about the rest of the boys from school and our midnight journeys around town. Fearing an outburst, I pushed the thoughts from my mind, and returned my focus to Mother. "I'm sure it will be splendid." My voice sounded strained, the politeness overbearing.

Mother nodded her head distractedly. "If it's not too much trouble, Ignatius, could you leave the house for a few hours? It would be much easier to get things ready if you and your father aren't bumbling around." Her wry grin was enough to make me light up, a tiny smile offered in her direction.

"Of course, Mother. I wanted to catch up around town anyway." She allowed that it was a wonderful idea, permitted my use of Forsythe—my poor, under-used black stallion—and sent me on my merry way.

I had told Mother that I would go into town, and see about meeting up with some of my "friends", but my plan all along was to go see Max, and finish out visit from the day before.

The rich, musty scent of the stables assailed my nostrils as I pushed open the heavy wooden doors. One of the horses within the dim whinnied, while many other snorted, clouds of dust floating up as they stamped their feet.

Forsythe, housed three stalls down on the left, saw me and tossed his head proudly. As I made my way toward him, he eyed me defiantly. "'Ey, there, Forsythe." I reached out to stroke his broad shoulder, and he gently nipped at my hair.

When Forsythe was saddled and ready to go, I swung up onto his broad back and we lit off down the road at breakneck speeds. I allowed myself to fall back into the rhythm of Forsythe's strides, our familiarity with each other very powerful.

Forsythe has always been my horse; since the day his mother gave birth to him and I watched him stand up for the first time. Mother made sure that Father didn't sell him; I taught him how to run and jump, to become familiar with a saddle on his back.

For a horse, Forsythe is a remarkably smart creature. Dazed as I was, very late on my commands, he still seemed to know exactly where he was going. We were fast approaching Max's home, when I saw a cloud of dust building up farther down the road.

As we two grew closer together, I could make out the form of a lone horse, barreling toward me at full speed. The closer we became, I could make out long hair flying out behind the rider.

And as we drew even, I could verify with my eyes that it was indeed Max. Her dress was hiked up to her thighs, legs on either side of her horse. Her eyes were wild, and they met mine as we flew past each other.

I wheeled Forsythe around as quickly as I could, and took off down the road after Max.

Something was wrong.

... ... ... ... ... ...

**Thanks a million times to my Beta, Lacking Stealth!**

**I feel like an extremely evil author; leaving you with two cliffhangers in a row! Plus this chapter was basically just a filler. Sorry if you were bored! Please review, it's much appreciated. And I definitely write better with your feedback.**

**-Sam**


	9. Chapter Nine

**Here's chapter nine!**

**Disclaimer.**

Chained and Bound

Chapter Nine

Nudge

I stared directly at Pa, my body tense as I waited for his explosion. I wasn't sure if it would come from his mouth or from his body, in the form of a fist. More than anything, I wanted to shy away from him, to turn and run back to the relative safety of Cass's house.

Pa returned my stare with cold eyes. "Where have you been?" His voice was surprisingly quiet and calm. Too calm. A chill ran through my body.

"I've been here, Pa," I responded, keeping my voice even, though my knees were shaking. I wanted to glance aside at Willem, and tell him to get out of here. But that would mean breaking away from Father, which he would see as submission to his command.

A scowl appeared on Pa's face, transforming it from a thing of beauty to one of horribleness. "Why have I not seen you?" He demanded, taking a step toward me. I flinched. "Don't you think this is a difficult time for me, your mother and brother gone? And your sister off foolin' around?"

_Hard for him!_ I thought incredulously. He never loved them, or me. The only reason he kept us around in the first place was because Missus Colburn insisted that families lived together. She couldn't stop him from beating us though.

Just thinking about those dark days made my side begin to burn, as if it were just yesterday he'd run a hot knife through me. That was one of the worst nights. Before I could get drawn into the memory, I mentally shook my head and pulled myself back to reality.

"And you think it's not hard for me?" I half yelled. "I actually liked them, unlike you. My family is gone now." My heart was beating too fast; I could hear it in my ears, pounding against my chest like the wings of a hummingbird. My legs had stopped shaking, though.

A feral noise ripped from Pa's throat, and he flung himself at me. There wasn't time to do anything except brace myself for the impending pain. My eyes shut reflexively, so I didn't see Willem—I'd forgotten he was there—jump forward and stop Pa.

My eyes flew back open, and I was met with the sight of Willem holding tightly to Pa's fist. He was about an inch away from me. Willem may be much stronger than he used to be, but he was still no match for Pa. It was a losing battle, and fear bubbled up in my stomach once more; no longer for myself, though.

"Willem," I breathed, breaking the heavy silence hanging over the clearing. He didn't turn to look at me, but I could tell from the tilt of his head that he was listening. "Stop. Let's go."

I received no response; Pa was screaming profanities at the both of us, and I could hear whispers and the sound of shuffling feet. There were people coming. Willem's arm was beginning to shake furiously.

I repeated myself. "Willem." The first faces began poking out of the bushes, turning to whisper back at their companions. "Let's go. Please."

He nodded stiffly, releasing Pa's hand. We both took three steps back immediately, Willem grabbing hold of my arm and shoving me behind him. Pa stood fuming, glaring at me. He had finally shut his mouth.

My chest hurt from the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I released it slowly, when it became apparent that Pa wouldn't make a move against us, not with all these people watching.

The raised voice of Overseer McCutchen reached us from a distance. "What's goin' on over there?" He demanded, making all of us wince collectively, even Pa. After that warning, we all dispersed, going back to whatever task we had been attending to previously.

Willem lingered in the clearing, even as I began to leave. Sighing to myself, I returned to his side. "Thank you."

His shoulders jerked slightly, as if he was attempting to shrug but was simply too tired to do so. "Sure, sure." I looked up at him, trying to read the expression on his face, but it was shadowed as he stared at his feet.

After a long pause, I turned away again, but then I was being crushed against Willem's chest, his arm holding me tightly to him. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Er. Yeah, me too." My eyebrows were pulled down in confusion, as my brain pushed into hyper drive, trying to find the meaning beneath his words. But I was coming up short.

Willem released me with a cold laugh. "See ya later, Nudgie." And then he was gone, leaving me standing alone.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I hurried from the secluded clearing. When I finally reached the worn-down path, littered with slaves, relief flooded through me. Pa would be looking for me now, but he couldn't try anything in front of anyone.

As long as I wasn't alone, I would be alright.

... ... ... ... ... ...

For the rest of the day, I wandered up and down the path, ignoring all the searching gazes, and the occasional helping hand. I had already drawn Willem into this problem; no one else needed this.

I was nearby the manor when a cloud of dust appeared down the road. I stopped my aimless meanderings and watched it draw closer, head cocked to the side. I mused that I probably somewhat resembled the Colburn's old dog.

Mister Colburn—the younger one—appeared then. He swung off his horse in one swift movement, leaving the poor, heaving beast still saddled and trying to catch its breath. "Crystal-Mae," he nodded at me, tipping his hat slightly before bursting past me, into the house.

I froze staring after him in bewilderment. From within the house, I heard his voice rose in anger. "Mother! I will not marry Maxine Ride!"

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**Thank you all soooooo much for your reviews! They make me feel so great! And guys, I know there's quite a few silent readers out there, and I would truly love to hear from you. Obviously, you like this story (the majority of you favorited it as well) and I really want to hear your thoughts! And those of you that leave unanimous reviews, know that I read them, and would love to respond if I could!**

**Also: an important note! THERE WILL BE A SCHEDULED HIATUS FOR THE MONTH OF NOVEMBER! Apart from the two PULL dates, you guys are going to have to go chapter-less. Sorry for that, but I'm participating in NaNoWriMo this year, and I want to dedicate my full attention to it. (If any of you are wrimos, the link to my account is on my profile. Add me as a buddy!)**

**Please review! :)**

**-Sam**


	10. Chapter Ten

**Once again, sorry for the delay! I feel really awful.**

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Chained and Bound

- - -Chapter Ten- - -

+-Iggy POV-+

Red haze seeped into my field of vision, and I could very vaguely feel my hands—curled into fists—shaking at my sides. "I will not marry Maxine Ride," I repeated, staring evenly at my mother.

She had completely frozen when I burst into the room, as had all of the slaves bustling throughout the house. All eyes were locked on me, but I barely noticed it. Mother shrunk back slightly, placing the dish she was holding on the table next to her.

"Ignatius," she tried to begin, taking half a step in my direction. I held up at hand, to stop both her movement and her speech.

"First of all, it's Iggy. My name is _Iggy_. How many times doI have to tell you that I don't want to be called Ignatius?" It was a rhetorical question, and I rambled on without even pausing to see if she would respond. "Secondly, why would you not ask my opinion on this? Time and time again I have refused your pleas that Max and I marry. It would not be good for either of us, and you know that—you have to know that."

"I don't want to discuss this right now." Mother interjected, her voice steeling over. It was the same tone she used to discipline me as a young child, and even now and sent a shot of cold through my veins.

But all that red burned away any doubts. "Then when _will_ we discuss it, Mother?" I demanded, dropping the anger found in my previous sentences. No emotion colored these words, and the aftermath was so quiet I could hear the blood rushing behind my ears, the high-pitched whine bringing me back to earth slightly.

A faint flush rose on Mother's cheeks, and she reached out to steady herself. "I had been planning to tell you tonight, in front of all the guests—a formal announcement." As silent as it was, I could barely hear the words.

I fought an overwhelming desire to laugh. The only reason they planned to announce it tonight was so that—hopefully—the presence of guests would contain my outburst. "Why would you want to disappoint them all?" I asked. "Get their hopes up for a fabulous wedding that will _never happen_?"

Around us, some of the slaves were exiting the room, barely breathing, it seemed, to mask their activity. Others slowly began to bustle about the room again, returning to the task they had previously been devoted to. Mother's eyes locked briefly on each of them, before finally coming back to me.

"It will happen, Ignatius. You can't get out of this."

"And Max? She doesn't want to marry me either! How do you think I found about this grand plan in the first place? Max is furious, she was tearing down the road to come find me." Mother paled, and I could practically see the revelation that her brain had just reached: What of Max?

She didn't concede, however. "You should address her as Miss Ride, Ignatius. She's a young lady." I narrowed my eyes at her. "That is beside the point, Mother, and you are well aware of it."

A heavy sigh escaped her lips, which she promptly pursed, turning her back on me. Fury rose up like a wave within me, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming something less-than-acceptable. A small, silent growl rumbled in my chest. "We aren't done here."

Mother whirled, the pieces of hair that had escaped her tight bun whipping into her face. Her eyes were cold and closed off, her mouth drawn in a tight line. "Oh yes, we are. Until your Father gets home, there will be no more discuss"—she broke off so suddenly, staring at a spot behind me in confusion, that I forgot what we were talking about.

Before I even had a chance to turn around, a voice from behind me said "Oh, I'm sorry. This must be a bad time. I can come back later." A grin split open my face, and I took in the sight of my friend standing sheepishly in my entryway—the door still flung open from my angry entrance.

"Hello, Fang."

The slaves, who had been working diligently despite the obvious distraction of Mother and I, froze and exchanged wary looks with one another. I refused to look at Mother, to see her reaction, and instead captured Fang's hand in a strong grip. "No it's fine. Please come in." I grabbed his arm and pushed him toward the stairs, following behind. I kept myself between him and Mother, turning once at the foot of the steps, our gazes locking.

I stared at her defiantly, and then followed Fang up the stairs.

"What's going on?" Fang demanded the moment we crossed the threshold into my bedroom. I scowled at the door as I pushed it closed, and then waved his question away.

"It's not important. What are you doing here?" I took up perch on a chair, taking in Fang's disheveled appearance. His sudden appearance was leaving my mind whirling. It wasn't as if I weren't excited to see him—Fang is the best friend I made at college—I simply couldn't wrap my brain around all the events that had occured in the last few hours.

Fang's real name is Nicholas, but I began calling him Fang shortly after we met, because of the gleaming white pendant hung around his neck. He is an interesting character, for sure. Fang grew up in the west, deep within the thick forests of Pennsylvania—about fifty miles upriver from Pittsburgh. He is tough and a bit untamed, and very silent. The fang itself is apparently from a wolf that was rooting around outside his house, harrassing his little sister. He was only fourteen at the time, and took the tooth as a prize.

How he ended up in New Jersey, at Princeton, is beyond any of us, and Fang isn't one to share anything personal about himself. His dark, olive colored skin paled significantly at my question. He stared down at his feet, his boots worn down and faded. "You didn't get my letter?"

I shook my head, eyebrows pulling down as I tried to remember receiving any mail. There was a possibility—a very small one, but still a possibility—that Mother was holding onto my letters, delaying to deliver them to me. I doubted it, but I would still be sure to ask her. "Is everything alright?"

Fang lifted his head and met my eyes, his own unbelievably sad. He shook his head, dark chunks of hair falling into his face. "No." His voice broke, and he whipped around quickly, fist flying out. Flesh connected visciously with the plaster of my wall. Dust flew out of the hole, flying into Fang's face. His arm was buried up to the elbow. "Oops."

I wanted to laugh, and would have under any other circumstance, but it was evident that something was very wrong. As the semester had drawn to a close, all Fang could talk about was how excited he was to be headed home. His sister was putting off her wedding so that he could be there, and he sounded like a little girl when he spoke about it.

But now he was here, in Alabama.

I automatically assumed the worst. "Oh Fang. What happened?" He extricated himself from my wall, and dusted some of the dirt off his typical all-black ensemble before answering.

"There was a fire." There was nothing in his voice. No sadness, or anger; nothing. His eyes were the same way, his face composed into a steely mask of indifference. "I got home late, but the roof had already caved in. Nothing made it out."

It felt as if the blood in my veins turned to lead. I opened my mouth, but came out. Fang didn't seem to mind though, he just shook his head at me. "I'm sorry for just showing up"—I cut him off right away. "Shut up. I'll have someone make up one of the spare rooms for you. You'll be getting the big welcome tonight; Mother is throwing a party of sorts to celebrate my homecoming, and everyone from town is going to be here."

_She's also going to announce my upcoming marriage_, I thought sourly. But I shook that thought from my mind, and decided to worry about Fang's problems. Mine could wait.

"Wait until you meet Max," I added with a small smile. "You guys will be best friends."

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**Just a quick reminder, everyone: I will be going on hiatus for the month of November. There WILL be updates of P.U.L.L. dates though. Again, I'm really sorry for my lack of updating. Volleyball season is finally over, which equals more time for me. Unfortunately (for you), this new freedom comes just in time for NaNoWriMo. If anyone is even still here, please review!**

**-Sam**


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